


First-Born Son

by SusanaR



Series: Desperate Hours Alternative Universe G version (DH AU G) [24]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Parents & Children, Uncle-Nephew Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 11:09:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanaR/pseuds/SusanaR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sea knows its own, but so does Aragorn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First-Born Son

**Author's Note:**

> Set in Dol Amroth, during the early Fourth Age

The King of Men stood at the shore of Dol Amroth's most unsheltered beach. There was a storm on its way. The waves rolled in, wild white caps hurrying to spend themselves upon the sand with a percussive crash. 

"I worry when he goes so far out into the water." Aragorn spoke, his eyes fixed on a distant red-gold head bobbing in the ocean. "For how am I to be sure that he will come back?" 

"He will." Answered Imrahil, the Prince of Dol Amroth and, more importantly for this conversation, Faramir's uncle. 

There were layers of meaning in that simple statement. A deep and complex history which Aragorn did not know. Which he had not been present during Faramir's earlier life to learn. Imrahil had, and Aragorn had to trust him, aye, and even be glad for him, in this as in many other matters. But few were so personal, and Aragorn deeply and keenly envied Imrahil this shared history. Faramir was Aragorn's son, after all, and a parent should know his child better than anyone save a wife. 

Imrahil smiled fleetingly, "He always comes back." 

Layers, again. Aragorn wanted to ask what his honorary younger brother meant by that, but just then Faramir came flowing into shore with an uncommonly big wave. He timed his exit so well, letting the foamy edge carry him just close enough to the shore to take two graceful steps out onto the sand. 

Faramir grinned at them unabashedly, covered head-to-toe in droplets of salt water. The storm was coming in, but even Aragorn could see how much more relaxed and happy his son was than before he had gone into the surf. Today's council meeting had been difficult for both of them, Aragorn realized, even though Faramir had done better than he at not letting the strain show. 

"You are only part waterfowl, you know." Aragorn told his son, a tacit apology for his dislike of Faramir's pastime mingled with the paternal concern which he was unsure whether his first-born would accept. 

Faramir just smiled. Toweling himself vigorously, he said with a teasing light in his eyes. "The storm bells have not yet rung. I think that I might go back out again." 

'Over my dead body,' Aragorn thought to himself, but he managed to keep his expression light. A mere raised eyebrow, then a light shove pushing his son onto the sand after Faramir took the joke far enough to solemnly hand him back the towel and turn towards the sea. 

Imrahil chuckled, and so did Faramir. Aragorn reflected that though Faramir was his, he was also Finduilas' son. Her child, left in trust to her younger brother the sea-prince. This place and these waves were in his blood, as surely as Aragorn's forests and cool rivers and deadly, honorable legacy. 

"The bell will ring soon." Faramir commented, draping an arm around his uncle's shoulders and another around his father's, and guiding them back towards the old sandstone castle in which he'd spent so many happy summers as a child.

Imrahil, as it turned out later, was right. Faramir did come home, even from his most dangerous adventure, though it took him six months and an inordinate amount of luck for to do so.


End file.
